Contemplation
by Ferdinand with Flowers
Summary: Clinging on to your dirty old shirt, I cry for you on the kitchen floor. /Ryoji centric/ one-shot


Contemplation

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><p>People just say that death is inevitable. Say that the Old Man just comes in your sleep and whisks you away to a terrible dream of Big Rock Candy Mountains.<p>

I don't think that's true. To say, I'm not sure what my perspective of death is.

Heh, it's almost ironic, no? Me of all people contemplating death.

The sun's gone on this fine winter day, gone off somewhere and shining its glory on the denizens of heaven while all us regular folk are as gloomy as hell.

I shrug my shoulders, like if I don't know, as I walk the streets of Tatsumi. Coiling my artificial sunlit-yellow scarf tighter around my neck. It is, without a doubt, the only thing bright enough in an otherwise gloomy setting.

The streets are cold and lifeless, passing pedestrians don't give a shit about the presence of a skinny boy like me. They don't even know I exist until the edges of their eyes glimpse the tail of sunlit-yellow, and yet they realize it's a trick of the eyes when they turn around to investigate. Poof, I'm gone just like that, even though my body is still motioning forward. Steps still step stepping.

Pedestrians will not see that tail of sunshine their body craves; eyes playing tricks on them when the only thing they see is a shadow without a host.

Coil my scarf tighter around my neck; it's all well and good if they don't see me. Don't notice me. Don't acknowledge me. It's all good.

Sky overhead rumbles with antici…

…pation.

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><p>And I stop and tilt my head straight upwards. Rain. I can feel it in me bones.<p>

I hate the rain. God, I hate it. I wish it was sun out, but the only thing I got with me is a scarf that only mimics it.

Walking forward, I have to find shelter before the rain starts. No umbrella, I could melt out here.

What a World, What a World, What a World we live in where innocent boys just up and melt in the rain.

Readjust my scarf around my neck. Air starts to smell of wet concrete. And there, right in front of me, is the Chagall Café. There's a line outside the French doors of the café, people waiting for a table.

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><p>Smile to myself. And just walk in unhindered. As my heels pass the threshold, the flood gates open. Just like that, it's raining. People outside covering their heads with newspapers and umbrellas and nick-nacks and other useless items to keep dry from the rain.<p>

Inside, the head waiter doesn't notice me, doesn't lead me to a table. Just standing forlornly at his podium, rearranging the menu roster and waiting on and turning away the occasional customer that doesn't have a reservation.

I walk past him ignoring when his eyes catch a glimpse of sunlight, as he turns towards the direction I'm walking.

It's funny, the place is crowded save for this one table. Almost as if it's waiting for me.

I sit down at the table, no one coming over to take my order. It's all good; I just sit there for a while, watching people in their ways.

Couples loving each other, lone intellectuals reading newspapers with them big Ole' words printed in them. People. Just being people.

Coil my scarf tighter around my neck, and people catch a glimpse of sunlight. But when they turn to search where it originated from, it's gone in a flash. They see nothing but a trick of the eyes, a shadow without a host. And when they notice there's nothing there, they turn back to their meaningless drabble.

And suddenly the contemplations start again. I think about death again.

Death and Old Men and Big Rock Candy Mountains.

I think of Nyx, and immediately sunshine pops into my head.

Follow that light, death might say. Or else, Don't follow it, clueless loved ones will shout out.

My head's starting to hurt, migraine exploding.

That Big Rock Candy Mountain is Nyx, promising me her honeyed destruction. As I say her name, my whole body aches. When I think of her, my mind pictures old men wielding scythes harvesting the souls of the living.

Close my eyes, and the world ends. Open them and-

And there's a cup of tea sitting in front of me. It's a bright green ceramic, with candy motifs printed on it. I look around me, but there's no waiter retreating from my table. Seems the cup just magically appeared right in front of me. It's not like it hasn't happened before. My parents suddenly appeared when I opened my eyes, with a house and a back story. Just like magic.

And just like magic, they disappeared as soon as I didn't need them, as soon as my eyes closed. They were just fairytales that I wanted to believe in.

As I'm staring at the cup, vapors steaming from the liquid inside of it, I suddenly realized that I didn't give a thought about how I came to being. One day I just woke up, and everything was there.

I pick the cup up from the bottom of its coaster, bring the rim of the cup up to my lips, and take a sip. Unsweetened green tea, and very.

Yummy.

Back when I was passing for normal, I was quite fond of green tea. Junpei used to make fun of me, saying stupid shit like _only pussies drink green tea…_

I place the cup back on the table. I watch it for a while, vapors just reaching upwards and disappearing in the air. I close my eyes, and there's Nyx. I open them.

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><p>There's a gun in place of a cup of tea. I study the gun without touching it; it isn't an evoker. It's a real gun through and through, the kind you play Russian roulette with. A gun you can use to destroy a you or an I.<p>

I pick up the gun. God. It's heavy.

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><p>Now how does this work?<p>

You put the gun up to your head. Pull the trigger. And say Persona.

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><p>Or, just pull the trigger, and don't say anything.<p>

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><p>Easy not to fuck up.<p>

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><p>But what would my Persona be? Death, no doubt. This is what I am.<p>

I put the gun back on top of the table. It's not my decision to make, after all.

I look outside one of the Chagall's windows. It's raining cats & dogs outside.

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><p>I hate the rain. God, but, I hate it.<p>

I have no umbrella, but I don't mind if I melt. I deserve to anyways. Looking back at the gun, I close my eyes. Nyx again, but when I open my eyes, there's nothing here for me anymore.

Coiling my scarf tighter around my neck, the noose a bright sunlit-yellow, I get up from my table and make my way to the exit.

As soon as my heel crosses the threshold, the whole room craves sunlight.

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><p>Let's Go To The big rock candy mountain.<p>

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><p>Disclaimer<br>and  
>concrit greatly appreciated<p> 


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